Innocence
by Glop
Summary: Suze gets a ghostly visitor a bit different from the rest, and it leads her into some deep trouble that may prevent any relationship with Jesse.
1. Baba

Innocence 

Author's Notes: This is my first real fic, so be nice in reviews.  It's also an alternate universe fic, and takes place after book 3, even though it doesn't make any reference to, or depend on, any previous events.

Disclaimer: Jenny Carroll/Meg Cabot owns The Mediator and all its characters, and maybe some other people own them to, unbeknownst to me.  Anyway, the point is, I don't own them, and am using them merely for my own personal entertainment, and the entertainment of others, and am not making money, so no suing.  

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This was insanity.  Pure insanity.  I mean...I was in love with a dead person.  Now, mind you, he wasn't so dead to me as he was to everyone else, me being a mediator and all…but he was still dead.  Not to mention the fact that he probably thought of me as the secondary character who was there for comedy relief, not the romantic lead.  Oh, and combine that with the fact that a little girl, who was also dead, was now sitting on the end of my bed whining about her 'baba', and God only knew what that could be. 

            "Excuse me?  Your what?"  I was not in the most understanding of moods.

            She looked up at me with these big, blue, tear-filled eyes.  She was no more than 6 years old.  I wondered how she died.  

            "Baba…mean…whyyyyy!!!" she screamed, and then she started bawling again.  Now this type of ghost I'd had no experience with, so I just looked at her the way Jesse looked at me the first time I'd spoken to him.  So, basically, I was totally confused.

            It was then that, speak of the devil, Jesse appeared, wanting to know what all the noise was about.  Turns out I didn't have to answer, because that was pretty obvious the second he bothered looking towards the foot of my bed.

            "Susannah, who is this?"

            I shot him a 'how-the-hell-should-I-know-I-only-work-here' look.  Jesse looked a little perplexed at my obvious lack of mediator-ing skills, which he makes sure to point out to me at every possible moment.  Which was why, obviously having more patience, and quite a few more years' experience, than I did, decided to go talk to little miss waterworks.  He kneeled down on the floor in front of her, and, in a voice I'd never heard him use, one that, I guessed, was reserved for young children and the outrageously stupid, asked, "Darling, what is your name?"  I promptly decided that this voice, just like every other aspect of him, was completely melt-worthy.

            The little girl, seeing something in Jesse that she hadn't seen in me, apparently, stopped crying immediately.  She sniffled a few times, and went, "E-emma."  I was a little insulted that, after half an hour of fruitless attempts, I couldn't get her to stop crying, much less speak coherently, and here was Jesse, who could do it in a matter of seconds, but I decided that it must be a ghost-kinship thing.  Or maybe there was just something special about Jesse.  It was probably more of the latter. 

            Jeez, I really had to stop thinking about that kind of thing.  I could not love Jesse.  No.  Bad Suze.  Go love someone else.

            I guess this whole thought process took longer than I thought, because, next thing I knew, just as I was forcing myself to fall madly in love with Heath Ledger, Jesse asked me what he thought we should do.

            A quick glance around the room showed that Emma was nowhere to be found, and I guess Jesse caught my expression, which was probably a bit bewildered, since he then asked, teasingly, "You weren't paying any attention at all to the conversation I just had with Emma, were you Susannah?"  The whole time he said this, he had this trace of a smile on his face. The kind parents get when they know they're supposed to be mad at their kids, but they can't help but laugh because the situation is so funny.  Except it seemed a whole lot less parent-like on Jesse.  

            I didn't think this Heath Ledger thing was going to work out.  

            I blushed profusely at his question, not because I was ashamed that I hadn't been paying attention, that was hardly something new, but because of the thoughts that had been distracting me in the first place.  Hopefully he didn't see my cheeks in the dark.

            "Um…no, not exactly.  But, I'm sure you'll fill me right in!"

            "Alright Susannah…but first, what, pray tell, was distracting you?"  He actually sounded a little concerned.  About _me_.  The thought just made me blush more, which said something, because I was _so_ not the blushing type.  But, of course, I had to remind myself that he was only concerned because he thought of me as his little sister or something equally non-romantic.  I didn't want to worry him needlessly though, thinking that something had happened.

            After a few seconds of thought, I decided I wouldn't lie.  I'd be forward with him, and just say what I had really been thinking.  Less trouble later, right?  So, I said, "I was thinking about a guy."

            What?  I never said I'd tell the whole truth.  I just said I wouldn't lie, which I didn't.  Jesse was a guy, very much so, and I had been thinking about him.  Therefore, I had told him the complete truth.  I just saved myself some humiliation in the process.

            For a moment I thought a look of hurt had flickered across his face, but then I realized I was just deluding myself into thinking I actually had a chance with the hottest guy I had ever seen in my life, who was also over 150 years old.  Ha, yeah right.  What is _with_ my taste in guys?  

            "Oh.  Well then, _querida_.  I will tell you what Emma said while you were thinking about boys."  Did he sound bitter?  No, that's the deluding again.  "She is 6 years old, and she seems very upset about someone she refers to as 'Baba'.  She claims this 'Baba' was 'mean' to her, as she puts it, and wants help.  As you would say, it is what you do, so I'm assuming you're going to give it.  I asked her if 'Baba' went by any other names, and she was adamant that this person didn't, although that's probably highly unlikely.  You have your summer vacation now, so will we start trying to solve this tomorrow?"

            We?  When had there been a 'we'?  What, was Jesse, a ghost, signing up for the mediator club or something?  I did appreciate the fact that he wanted to help though.  Why was he insisting on making it so difficult for me to fall back out of love with him?

            I had been sitting cross-legged on my bed, near my pillow, and while he had been talking, Jesse had come and sat on the edge of the bed, right next to me.  As he spoke, I stared at his face; at his brown eyes that were so easy to get lost in if you weren't careful, at his perfect lips that I wondered what it would feel like to kiss, and at that scar that glowed whenever he was angry.  I wondered where he had gotten that scar.  I managed to snap myself out of my Jesse-trance quickly though.  Well, maybe not quickly, but at least before he had to ask the same question again.

            "Huh?  Oh!  Um, yeah.  'Course.  Tomorrow."

            "Are you thinking about that boy again?  You must like him very much; you are very distracted tonight.  Well, goodnight _querida_.  Sleep well."

            And then he was gone.  Poof.  Ghosts are irritating like that, popping in and out at will.  It was kind of inconvenient if you ask me.  He had seemed a little…off tonight though.  I wondered why.  Was he jealous of the 'boy' I had been thinking of?  That would be ironic, the 'boy' being him and all.  Amusing, yes, but possible? Highly unlikely.  I had to stop giving myself false hope; it was a bad habit to get into.  Maybe Spike had gone missing again or something.  Yeah, come to think of it, I hadn't seen him around lately.  Stupid cat.

            It was with these kinds of thoughts floating around in my head that I finally started drifting off at 2:30 AM, completely forgetting about Emma and Baba, even though that should have been the highlight of my evening.  Funnily enough though, if Jesse was involved, he automatically became the highlight of that particular evening.  Or day.  Or morning.  Or whenever…mmm…Jesse…

            He was my final thought before I drifted off to sleep.


	2. Invitation

Innocence 

Author's Notes: Hopefully things will start to pick up in this chapter.  I have a basic plan of how the story will go, but nothing written in stone, so I don't think I'm even sure what's going to happen XP Oh, and Scotts Valley's an actual city in CA that's about an hour away from Carmel.  Good old Map Quest XP

Disclaimer: I still don't own Suze, Jesse, or anyone else (although I wouldn't mind it), so don't sue.  Besides, all you'll get is a giant pile of manga, those being essentially my only possessions of any monetary worth XP

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            When I woke up in the morning, I could have sworn I saw Jesse sitting on my bed looking at me, but after fully clearing my eyes of the early-morning haze, I saw he was gone.  Shadows must have been playing tricks on me.  I got up to go to the bathroom, and nearly tripped over Spike, who decided it would be fun to go to sleep right in front of the door.  He hissed at me and bounded away.

            It was while brushing my hair that I remembered about Emma and her mean baba.  Strange kid.  She had probably died pretty recently, judging by the clothes she was wearing, so I figured the smart thing to do would be to check the newspapers for any recent deaths of young female children named Emma.  I mean, how many could there be?  I put on a mini, sandals, and a tank top, due to the insanely sweltering weather that was also known as mid-July in Carmel, then made my way downstairs to fix myself some Cocoa Puffs.  There's nothing like unpronounceable ingredients in the form of high-calorie breakfast food first thing in the morning.

            I was just watching the milk turn chocolate, which is something this cereal seemed to pride itself on, when Sleepy stumbled into the kitchen looking a bit confused.  I could understand that, it being before noon and not a school day.  It must have been an entirely new experience for him.  But then again, he always looked a bit confused.

            I decided to start flipping through the newspaper, see if I could find anything about Emma.  Didn't take long.  Apparently she had gone missing 3 days ago, so, in other words, that's when she had died.  I could never understand why people were just pronounced 'missing' when it was obvious they were dead.  Probably their friends and family just trying to comfort themselves, give themselves false reassurance that everything was great.  A little bit like I'd been doing with Jesse, I guess, imagining him being jealous of some guy I was thinking about, or thinking he'd been watching me sleep.  I needed some psychiatric help.

            It was right then when he appeared.  This was starting to creep me out.  Whenever I happened to be thinking of him, he popped into existence.  God I hope he couldn't read my mind.  That would just be a little too much for me to handle.  No, it was probably that whole 'calling' thing…maybe I'd been calling him subconsciously. 

            "Have you found something Susannah?" he asked, looking at the newspaper I was holding.

            I gestured to him to come upstairs.  I could hardly start a conversation with him right in the kitchen with Sleepy a few feet away, even though he probably wouldn't notice or care if I started talking to myself.

            I sat myself down on my bed and showed Jesse the paper.  "It says here," I said as I gestured towards the article, "that Emma Thompson, 6, went missing 3 days ago, and she was discovered missing a few hours after she'd left to go to the beach with her parents and grandparents.  She lived in Scotts Valley.  Her family was visiting her grandparents for the weekend apparently."  I scanned the rest of the article.  "There isn't really much relevant information here other than that.  It's mostly talking about how it's such a tragedy, etcetera.  I guess we should give the Thompsons a call then?"

            "Do you know if they've gone back to Scotts Valley yet?"

            "No, they were supposed to go back home tomorrow, but we could just leave a message.  It's not like I can just go and drive up there.  Lifts to outrageously rich people's houses nearby are fine, but it would be a little suspicious if I asked Andy or Sleepy to drive me to a city an hour away."

            "What about that priest?"

            "You really think I know Father Dom's phone number?  He's the one always calling me, and now that school's out, it's not like I've been dropping in on him asking for tea and cookies."  
            "But you know his address?"

            "Well, yes, but-"

            "Then we will go over there and get him to drive you."  I guess I must have made a face without meaning to, because then he asked, "What is it?"

            "Jesse…God, I mean, it's summer vacation.  Vacation!  I really don't feel like dealing with this right now.  I just want to go lounge on the beach and hang out with CeeCee and Adam, and do normal things!"  I have no idea why I said that.  I mean, yeah, it was kind of true, but it didn't bother me _that_ much, and it's not like I could just abandon this little girl.  Jesse looked a bit surprised at what I'd just said, so he stared at me and blinked a couple times.  I guess I can understand why.  I had raised my voice a bit, and, even though I'd been known to complain a lot about being a mediator, I'd never actually downright _refused_ to do something.

            There was an awkward silence, until all of a sudden Emma was there, obviously having gotten the hang of materializing.  The first thing she did when she popped into the room was look at Jesse, and then run and grab his leg.  Then she looked up and went, "Where's mommy?"  She just sounded curious though, not upset like she had the night before.  

            Jesse, on the other hand, was at a loss about what to do.  I had a feeling he had been just about to give me some lecture or another, and then all of a sudden this little kid comes and adopts him as her guardian or something.  While discreetly trying to get her to let go, he told Emma that her mom was at home, and we'd take her there too, wouldn't we?  He gave me a meaningful look for the last bit, and he over-enunciated a bit.  I got the message.

            She finally let go of Jesse and eyed me a bit warily.  I didn't know what was with her.  She was like the human version of Spike, not liking me for no reason, but getting all attached to Jesse.  Except, of course, Emma was a cute little girl and Spike was a, lets face it, downright ugly cat.

            "Of course we'll take you home," I told her in my best little kid voice.  She seemed satisfied with this, and then dematerialized without warning.  Maybe she went to go get her things?  Who knows?

            After this little scene, I started to feel a bit bad for the kid.  I mean, she obviously had no idea she was dead.  How could she, she probably didn't even fully understand the concept of dying.  So I went to go get the phone book, which I had been using an awful lot lately, what with calling dead people's relatives and psychotic killers.  I had just opened it when I remembered that it was the _Carmel_ phone book.  Why would Scotts Valley numbers be in it?  And I could hardly look up her grandparents; I had no idea if they were on her mother or father's side.

            I looked at Jesse a little helplessly, because, while I really did want to help Emma, I didn't feel like wasting my day driving around California with my _school principal_.  Which, come on, was understandable.

            "Susannah, do you really expect me to help you with this?  Telephones did not exist when I was your age, so do you think I could tell you where to go to find out how to contact the Thompsons in Scotts Valley?"

            He had a point there.  It also served as a harsh reminder that nothing could ever happen between us.  I mean, he had lived through everything we had learned in American History the year before, and, while it was handy when it came to writing papers, that probably didn't make someone good boyfriend material.

            I shoved all Jesse-related thoughts out of my head, and gave up on the phone book, throwing it onto my bed.  It landed open to a page advertising their online database with all listed phone numbers in California.  Of course, why hadn't I thought of the Internet earlier?  I was exploring the boundaries of my own stupidity, to which there didn't seem to be any, and went downstairs to look up Emma's parents.  

            Perfect, there were only 9 Thompsons.  Now the only problem was what I was going to say.  "Hello, you don't know me, but I was wondering if your daughter just died, and if you know anyone called Baba…" That didn't seem to be the best idea.  I figured maybe, "I heard about your daughter, and I'm so sorry," would be better.  They probably wouldn't bother asking who I was, since they'd most likely be getting a lot of those calls.  And if they weren't the right Thompsons, I'd apologize and say I got the wrong number.  This stuff was way too easy.  

            I quickly wrote down all the phone numbers, but figured I would wait until the next day to call, because that's when they were due to get home, and, after thinking about it, leaving a message sounded a little too stalker-esque.

            Now I had the whole day free, and, since CeeCee and Adam were both out of town for the next few days, both off doing the vacation thing, I figured I'd go to the beach.  I went into the bathroom to change into my very flattering, if I do say so myself, orange and blue bikini, and I heard Jesse ask through the door, "Are you going out, _querida_?"

            Now, what happened next I'm going to blame on temporary insanity, or maybe too much salt air and sun, but, without thinking, I replied, "The beach, wanna come?"  There was complete silence for what seemed like hours, and I just stood there with my eyes kind of wide.  What kind of idiot asks a _ghost_ to go to the beach with her?  But, even though it seemed like hours, it was actually probably only about 5 seconds before Jesse, sounding surprised, went, "I'd be happy to."


	3. Surprise

Innocence 

Author's Notes: I know the last chapter was a little boring, but this one's probably going to be better.  It doesn't further the plot much until the end, but I feel like we need a fluff interlude.  And also, remember, this takes place _before_ books 4 and 5!  Also, I've written out an outline of the story, and I have some major plot twists coming your way ^_~

Disclaimer: I only own Emma Thompson and Mike (who isn't important enough to deserve a last name XP).  Everyone else is owned by big important people more talented than I, so no sue.

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      I was lying on my stomach on my beach towel, and Jesse was lying next to me, on his back, propped up on his elbows.  He was just staring out to sea, just like he did so much from my window.  I honestly could not believe this.  The only thing wrong with this scenario was that we were surrounded by hundreds of people.  Well, and the fact that Jesse didn't and would never love me.  And the fact that he was dead.  I buried my head in my arms and pretended that the last two things weren't true, and I was practically asleep when Jesse went, "_Querida…_" with a hint of curiosity in his voice. 

      "Yeah?"  I really should have gotten around to figuring out what that word even meant.

      "Why did you ask me here?"

      Uh oh.  That one was a stumper.  I didn't think I even knew why I had asked.  I mean, obviously it was great that he was there with me in a setting that wasn't my room, and had nothing to do with the mediator business, but I couldn't exactly tell him the truth, that I'd asked him because I was madly in love with him, and was deluding myself into thinking that he may, just may, feel the same way.  So I settled for, "Because CeeCee and Adam are away and I'd probably get bored by myself."  I figured it was safe to start a conversation, because, what with all the hustle and bustle around the beach, nobody would notice a 16-year-old girl talking to herself.

      "Oh."  I could have sworn I'd heard disappointment in his voice.  Probably because I'd made him come to the beach with me for such a pathetic reason when he'd so rather be doing something else.  Damn my stupid subconscious that went and talked without my permission.  And now he thought I was too co-dependent to go to the beach alone.  So I added, "And, well, you know, because you're my friend."  My _friend_?  What was my mouth saying?  I doubt that made me look any more mature.

      "I'm glad you think of me as a friend now Susannah.  I was hoping that you wanting to get rid of me was just a phase."  Oh, if only he knew.

      The silence that followed wasn't entirely uncomfortable, but I felt like I wanted to revive the conversation.  I figured this was a good opportunity to ask him about his death.  And Maria de Silva.  Not that I was jealous or anything.  

      "Um…Jesse…I have a question.  Don't be mad though."

      "Why would I be angry with you?  What question?"

      "Well…okay, I was curious, so I looked up stuff about the house.  Back when it was a boarding house, I mean.  And, um…completely accidentally, I found this stuff about…well…you.  And Maria de Silva.  And things about that."  I was looking away and picking at my beach towel while I was talking.  I was scared he'd get mad at me, because, it _was_ his personal life that I was prying into.  When he spoke though, he didn't seem mad, only a little uncomfortable.

      "Oh…I see.  So…you know how I died?"

      I looked up at him apologetically, and started talking a mile per minute.  "Yeah, I do, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go and look up your personal stuff, it's just that Doc was offering, and so I said sure, because I wanted to know too, because-"

      "Susannah."  The way he said my name made my stop my stream of incoherent babbling.  "Susannah, I'm not angry with you.  It was natural curiosity.  But next time, please, ask me, don't feel you have to look it up in a book.  It's so impersonal."

      "But, I did ask, and you were being evasive, and said it was late…"

      He laughed at that.  "Susannah, I would have told you, but you really did look exhausted.  I thought I should wait until you were more awake, but then you never brought it up again."

      Oh.  Well.  Oops.  I jumped to conclusions again.  That didn't change the fact that I still wanted to know about this Maria girl though, I just couldn't figure out how to bring it up without sounding jealous.  Maybe the direct route would work.

      "About Maria…" I started.

      "To be blunt with you, I did not love Maria.  I barely even thought of her as a friend.  I wasn't even planning on showing up for our wedding, but Felix Diego obviously thought otherwise, and decided he wanted me…exterminated."

      I felt so badly for Jesse at that moment, killed over someone he didn't even love, that I lifted my head off my arms and yelled, "Bastard!"

      Jesse, along with the many people closest to me, turned and stared.  They went back to their normal business pretty quickly, muttering to themselves.  They probably all just thought that I had Tourette's.  Jesse, on the other hand, went, "But _querida_, you can't blame him.  He believed I was in love with Maria.  I'm sure others would have done the same.  Love affects people in strange ways."  Now it was my turn to stare.  Was he defending the person who'd killed him?  "Besides, had I not died, I would have missed out on all of this," he added.  I would definitely need some alone-time at home to figure out exactly what he meant by that, but before I could even start deciphering it, some guy came and sat down next to me, right on top of – well, through – Jesse.

      That, I found, was pretty rude, and Jesse seemed to think so too, because he got up and moved out of the way.

      "Hey sexy," the guy murmured to me.  I was totally appalled by this, and was about to get up, get Jesse, and leave, right after punching this guy's face in, but when I looked around, I noticed Jesse had gone.  Now I was really mad at this tard.

      "What do you want?"

      "The name's Mike."

      "Uh, that's great.  What do you _want_?"  I was not happy with this person, I thought Jesse and I had been getting somewhere.

      "How 'bout you, tonight at 7?"  I couldn't believe this guy.  I'd never seen him before in my life, and, at about 6 feet with spiked blond hair and blue eyes, he was one of the cuter guys I'd seen in my time, but he didn't come close to comparing to Jesse.  And he'd just ruined one of the best conversations I'd ever had with him.

      "How 'bout a broken nose, right now?"  I glared at him, to prove to him I wasn't kidding, and he got this scared look on his face.  I made a fist and was just about to sock him when he started backing away through the sand, then got up and walked away at quite a brisk speed.  What a loser.

      I scanned the crowd for Jesse, but he was nowhere to be found, and I figured he'd probably gone back to my – well, more like our – room.  I started packing up my stuff to go home, I wasn't in a beachy mood anymore anyway, when I saw Emma standing there looking up at me.

      "Are you going to help me soon?"  She looked moderately upset, and, when I didn't respond instantly, her eyes started filling with tears.

      "Emma, what do you want me to do for you?"

      "Baba was mean.  Baba yelled at me.  Why is Baba so mean to me?"

      "Emma, tell me who Baba is."  Through her tears she looked at me like I was the world's biggest dunce for not knowing this.

      "You know…Baba.  Mommy's mommy."


	4. Violet

Innocence 

Author's Notes: Alrighty, here's where the plot thickens!  We have action, and some Suze x Jesse-ness!  : D Of course, not enough to leave you completely satisfied, but we wouldn't want that, now would we?  Mwaha, I'm evil XP Oh, and also, Notleys Landing exists, but I have no idea if it's actually a nice place that you would go to on a day trip, but don't judge me because of it! O.x lol!

Disclaimer: I only own Emma Thompson and Violet Schumacher, everything (and everyone) else is owned by Jenny Carroll/Meg Cabot, although I wouldn't mind renting Jesse for a few days XD

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            I was sitting at home trying to figure this whole thing out.  I mean, this girl's _grandmother_ killed her?  That was just…wrong.  Grandmothers give you candy, they don't kill you.  Must have been one messed up lady.  I felt bad for Emma's parents; they deserved to know how their daughter died.  Of course, that was none of my concern, so I tried to forget about this disturbing piece of information and look up 'Baba' on a genealogy website.  Of course, I didn't look up 'Baba', I looked up Emma Thompson, and, easily enough found her maternal grandmother's name.  Violet Schumacher.

            By this time it was pretty late though, having spent most of the afternoon at the beach with Jesse, and, since old people go to bed early and everything, I figured I wouldn't bother her, especially if it turned out she hadn't killed her granddaughter, in which case calling and asking about her had the potential to be extremely traumatic.

            I settled for sitting in my room and turning my music up really loud, to make sure my mom or Andy didn't venture in, and thought about Jesse.  Of course.  What else would I be doing on a Friday night during summer vacation?  Actually going out, you say?  Why, I'm much too pathetic for that.  Besides, if my recent theories held true, if I thought about him, he would show up sooner or later.  So I changed into what passed for PJs and lay down on my bed.

            The first Jesse-related matter at hand was figuring out what exactly he had meant by if he hadn't died he would have missed out on 'all of this'.  All of what?  Did he mean pizza, rock music, Tylenol, electric blankets?  Or…I barely allowed myself to think it, but it slipped through…did he mean me?  

            I very nearly physically slapped myself for letting that happen.  I mean, I reminded myself of a 12 year old with her first big crush on Justin Timberlake, who was convinced that at every concert she went to he was singing to _her_, when it was _obviously_ not true.  He probably just thought it was cool that he got to see 150 years worth of history play out.  Because it would be, and all.

            I'm not sure when I fell asleep, but I knew that for the next long while I thought of every aspect of Jesse possible, and replayed conversations over and over.  I knew I fell asleep though, even though I don't remember it, because when I woke up the next morning, I had a blanket covering me and my music was off.  I wondered if it had been my mom, Andy, or Jesse.  I secretly hoped for Jesse, but I knew it was probably mom.

            I changed and went downstairs.  Andy looked up from the car magazine he was reading and went, "Hey, sleepyhead."  I mildly resented that; it was summer, it was my duty as a teenager to get up no earlier than 10, but I knew he was joking.  

            "Hey.  Do you mind if I go out again today?"  I had to make sure he had nothing planned, just in case I ended up paying Violet Schumacher a surprise visit, or, hey, maybe I'd just go down to the beach again.        

            "Of course not.  In fact, your mother and I had planned on going down to Notleys Landing for the day, you kids'll be find on your own."

            "Fine by me.  Have fun!"  I went into the kitchen, grabbed a brown sugar Pop Tart, and went to use the phone.

            I went to my room, and picked up the receiver, glancing around the room just to see if Jesse had come back from wherever he went when he wasn't here.  I made a mental note to ask him where that was next time I saw him, because he wasn't there now.  

            I dialled the number and, sure enough, an elderly woman picked up with, "Violet Schumacher speaking."  I launched into my 'sorry about your granddaughter' spiel.  

            "Hello, I'm just calling to say that I heard about your granddaughter and I'm so sorry about what happened.  It must be awful for you."

            "Yes, well…may I ask who this is?"  Strange, she didn't sound overly heartbroken, just a little distracted.

            "Well, you don't know me, I just read about it in the newspaper and I thought it was horrible…and they don't know how she died?"

            "No.  No they don't.  I'm sorry dear, but there's something I _must_ do.  Thank you for calling though."  And then she hung up on me.  _That_ wasn't very sweet-little-old-lady-whose-granddaughter-just-died-like.  She sure as heck didn't deserve any Oscars for her acting talent.  It was way obvious that something was up over at Violet Schumacher's house, and I was going to find out what.  Thankfully, her house was only about a 10-minute bike ride.

            I got to her door, deciding to use the same story as I had on the phone, and I'd try to get myself invited in.  From the outside, it looked like your stereotypical old-person house.  Stucco bungalow with flower boxes hanging off the windows, nothing special.

            I went and rang the doorbell, and an old woman with long white hair, loose down her back, answered the door.  Her house may have looked stereotypical, but she didn't look like any grandma I'd ever seen.  I looked around, wondering where grandpa was, but I figured he was probably napping.  Old men did that a lot.  Violet looked a bit confused, and asked, "What are you two doing here?"

            My first reaction was, wow, this woman's crackers, she's seeing double or something.  Then I felt a had on my shoulder, and I whirled around, expecting to see some psycho who'd followed me from God-knows-where, but instead, I was shocked to see Jesse.  I was even more shocked that _Violet_ could see Jesse, and whirled my head back around, my eyes nearly popping out of my head.  _This_ woman was a mediator too?

            I guessed she hadn't meant to let that slip, and she definitely hadn't expected me to be able to see Jesse, because she had a look of horrified shock on her face.

            To break the silence, I went, "So…uh…you're a mediator too?"  Which was probably not the smartest thing to do, because, for some reason, this woman was furious now.

            "How DARE you show up at my house like this?  What do you _want_?  If this is about Emma, I'll call the police and turn you in, mark my words!  They'll take my word for it too, my son works there you know!"

            Okay, so maybe I had been dead-on with the 'crackers' thing.  She was obviously a few colors short of a rainbow.  I decided I'd stand up to her.

            "Actually, we are here about Emma, and I want to ask you a few questions if you don't mind."  I slipped past her in the doorway, and Jesse did the same.  She turned around to face us and slammed the door behind us.  It was about this time that I noticed a table nearby with all sorts of herbs and candles strewn about.

            "Whoa…what's with _that_?"  Excuuuse me for not feeling threatened by an old lady mediator.  I guess that was a mistake, though.  

            Jesse answered for her.  "It looks like materials necessary for making potions or spells…" he answered slowly and trailed off, not entirely believing what he was seeing.  Violet was definitely no regular senior citizen, and I doubted her hobbies included gardening, bridge, and knitting.

            "Forget the police!" she fumed, "I'll kill you too!"

            Jesse stepped in front of me a little, which I found really sweet of him, but then I realized he only did it because he couldn't die, and if he could, he probably wouldn't have done it.  But, duh, this was obviously not the time or place to be moping, so I cut to the chase.

            "Why did you kill your granddaughter?"

            She laughed, and the way she did it creeped me out a little.  "_I_ didn't kill her, her mother did, silly girl."

            "What are you talking about?"  
            "I might as well tell you, I'll kill you anyway.  I'm a powerful witch, more powerful than you or anyone else you know could ever be, but my daughter, that bitch, thinks it's dangerous.  Foolish girl, of course it is, but she wants me to stop.  Doesn't know when to leave well enough alone.  I had had enough with her constant nagging, so I did what I knew would hurt her most.  I took her daughter away."  The way she smiled while saying that gave me the chills.  It was no wonder her husband stayed in his room, or wherever he was. 

            "You…you…freak!  How could you kill your own granddaughter?" I screamed at her.  This lady was not the type of person I could put up with for very long.

            Right then, Emma appeared, smiling gleefully up at me.  "Yay, you yelled at Baba!  I always wanted to yell back, but mommy wouldn't let me."  Then she clapped, hugged me, hugged Jesse, and disappeared.  Moved on I supposed.  That had been pretty simple.  But, now that that interlude was over, it was back to the matter at hand.

            Violet was standing in the middle of the room, looking absolutely livid.  She stretched her hand out towards me and Jesse, muttered something in a language that was definitely not English, and all of a sudden I was flung against the far wall by some unseen force.  Jesse, being a ghost, was unaffected, and he immediately came to help me up.  "Susannah, we aren't prepared to take this woman on, she's too powerful.  Come, let us go and come back when we know exactly what we are up against," he hissed in my ear.  He had a point, and we bolted for the door.  I took my bike and pedaled for all I was worth, and I got home in record time.  The last thing I'd heard while leaving her house was, "Don't think this is over!  Ha, far from it!"

------

*Later that night, at Violet's house* 

            She sat in a circle made of candles, with mirrors and dried leaves placed in seemingly random places on the floor.  Then she closed her eyes, and started chanting.  Roughly translated, this is what she said:

Powers, I, your Master, command thee, 

_Come and unleash thy wrath._

_Find the mediator, and _

_Use the mirror image of her thoughts._

_Whatever she feels,_

_The opposite she shall say,_

_And it shall be so till her life comes to an end._

_GO!_

            Giant pillars of black smoke exploded out of the mirrors, and raced through the door.  Susannah, meanwhile, was sleeping soundly, and didn't notice at all when tendrils of black smoke wafted into her room through the open windows, and got absorbed into the back of her head.


End file.
